Overwatch: Missing in action
by friendlessleaf
Summary: 2 years after the recall animated short, a second Omnic crisis has broken out in Northern Russia. This story follows pilot David Mcallister and his squad as they attempt to liberate Russia and prevent a world-wide crisis.
1. Chapter 1

**This story takes place in 2078, 2 years after the events of the "Recall" animated short. At this time, the beginning of the second Omnic War, has begun and a lot of the fighting has begun on the Northern outskirts of Russia. Humanity is fighting a losing battle against the new and improved Omnics and a nuclear option seems imminent. Throughout the Russian front, tens of thousands of soldiers have been killed and the country has grudgingly accepted the help of American, Canadian and British special forces. Several Overwatch agents have also joined the fray, however they are being used more as propaganda than anything else.**

 **Talon has become less of a worldwide terrorist organization and has turned into a private army that has a shaky alliance with the Omnics (they will some presence in the story, being more of a shady accomplice to the Omnics.)**

 **The following story is about RCAF pilot David Mcallister and his squad's attempts to help defend the Russian front.**

 **I own nothing.**

 _July 20th, 2078, Arkhangelsk, Russia, Canadian/British FOB 07:12 MST [2] days before the confirmed MIA report for RCAF pilot :_ _David_ " _Jackal"_ _Mcallistero_ _was filed._

I awoke to the sound of the warning alarm system. I listened for a moment to decipher the pattern… three seconds of the deafening noise and then a 1 second rest. That meant an urgent deployment for my platoon and I.

 _Finally, some action_ I thought. Me and my wingmen had been stationed at the same FOB for more than a year now, yet we had only seen combat 4 times and, at that point, I was sure that I would die from hypothermia before I was even wounded in combat.

As always, it was snowing outside, which shouldn't have been a surprise considering I was stationed in Northern Russia. From the barracks, I jogged with my squad mates, Lee, Alex and Danny into the briefing area, where several other squads had already gathered. The rest of the infantry trickled out one by one until all the squads were standing quietly in front of the Captain.

"Alright, men, today this platoon has the _honour_ of taking back the city of Arkhangelsk," he said, pausing for the murmurs of disbelief to die down, "now I know what you're all thinking; 'that hell hole is impossible to get near to'... and you're goddamn right! So I have made the executive decision to use a German-style Blitzkrieg strategy, which will at least give us some chance of not getting fragged as soon as we step into the goddamn city!

 _Wait what the fuck?! Arkhan-fucking-gelsk?! Jesus that's city was one of the most dangerous places for air forces and armour alike. How the hell does he expect a 1940's era attack to work?_

The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Every time the Captain read out a mission assignment either a sigh of relief or a solemn silence was heard, some squads knowing full well they would not make it home alive.

"Charlie, Delta and Echo you will be capturing hostile MG positions, Alpha and Bravo teams, you lucky bastards are on artillery support.

The Captain dismissed the GI troops and turned to the CRAF and RAF teams; out squad and RAF squad Bravo were to protect the bombers as they made their way into the heart of the city.

"Today's mission is very important to the overall capturing of the north coast of Russia," he explained, "Jackyl, you and your squad will be escorting the first bomber group, while Mctavish's squad will becoming in with the second bomber group.

"Won't they see us coming?" Lee interrupted, "They have something like a million Flak guns out there!"

"Take it up with parliament. I didn't issue these orders, kid," the Captain snapped, "I'm just doing my best to get as many of our people as I can out of this alive. Now suit up and mount up! Dismissed!

 _July 20th, 2078, [20,374] feet above Arkhangelsk, 16:37 MST._

" **Preparing to drop the load in 20 seconds"**

By this point, my squadron of Super Hornet MKIIIs were hidden in the dense clouds above the city, closely trailing about a dozen B-79 Jet Bombers, each of which had a 8000 lb "present," just for the Omnics.

 _Like Christmas Day._

" **Passing above the bomb zone now, fuck em u-"**

That's when one of the bombers exploded and everything went to shit.

"Flak rounds incoming! Scatter the bombers and scramble the fighters, hostile drones are gonna be on our tail soon," I yelled over the radio.

Panic consumed the less experienced bomber crews, causing them to drop altitude or try to RTB, allowing the Flak cannons to pick them off easier. My squadron of elite Super Hornet pilots had too much experience to crack under pressure, we had too many missions under our belts, we had already watched too many of our friends die. We were numb to this shit.

 _So what's the harm in a few more casualties? Hell, they were new, we didn't know them on a personal level._

Lee, Danny and I veered into an arrow formation, preparing for a forward attack from the deadly Omnic drones that we were sure were going to emerge out of the clouds and finish us off.

We held the tight formation for a good couple of minutes, Flak constantly exploding around us as it reached it's designated altitude. Eventually, the Flak stopped firing and we assumed we had passed out of the city's limits.

"Bombers report in," I called into the radio static, expecting to hear at least a couple of replies, "anyone still alive out there?"

The deafening static was the only thing that replied to me.

"Shit, man, are we it?" Lee asked, "they can't have all been dusted by Flak."

"No way in hell," Danny said over the radio, "gotta be a SAM launcher or some drones hiding in the clouds."

Just as Danny said that, I saw them, their trails of flame glimmering in the evening sky like stars, if stars had 20mm cannons and heat-seeking rockets attached to them, TGR 7 drones, about 20 of them.

"Well, holy shit, we're screwed," Danny muttered.

I imagine that from the ground, the exchange of fire that followed looked like a meteor shower. Thousands of rounds were fired in a matter of seconds, those dumbass Omnics couldn't get a single hit on us with our superb maneuvering. We, however, didn't miss one shot and our bullets destroyed several of the drones. Just as it looked like things were turning in our favour, however, all of the remaining drones pulled off, positioning themselves a couple of kilometres and unleashing dozens of rockets.

"Eject! Eject right fucking now," I yelled, knowing that if we didn't, those heat-seekers would rip us to shreds.

My vision blurred as I was ejected out of my cockpit at hundreds of kilometres per hour. As I detached myself from the seat and put my arms and legs into a diving position, I glanced up and my face was immediately blasted with the heat of all 3 of our jets exploding, each being hit with several missiles.

"Radio check, come in Danny, come in Lee," I said into the headset built into my helmet.

"Radio check, Danny here."

"Radio check, Lee still kickin'"

I sighed in relief with the knowledge my squad mates were okay, but my sigh quickly turned into a gasp as we broke through the clouds and I saw the hellscape that we were going to land in.

"Toss me a 'nade, Danny," I yelled, "I got a dozen more shredders on our left flank!"

"I'm all out of grenades, Lee, you got any?"

"I'm out too, I got some C-4 though."

"No, save that for the big ones," I reasoned as I unloaded 2 magazines of 7.62 depleted uranium rounds into the assailants, each shot hitting it's mark.

Almost immediately after we landed, we had been ambushed by a entire company of Omnics who were moving to the front lines to help hold off British forces. We had holed up in a small, burned out house and were shooting out the basement windows at the waves of various Omnics that were advancing on our position. We knew we couldn't hold out long though, as our ammo was quickly being depleted.

"I'm fucking out!" Lee yelled as his .50 cal HMG clicked, signalling the end of the ammo.

Without the constant 2000 rounds per minute of covering fire, the Omnic units began advancing, peppering our windows with various bullet calibres, pinning us down.

"Fuck this, man I ain't dying here," Danny cried, firing his last M1911 clip out the window.

Deciding Danny was right, we followed him as he kicked down the house's back door and ran into the alley behind the house. Danny ran ahead, dashing across the street to get to the next back alley. What he didn't notice, however was the Pillbox that had been set up the end of the street, which housed 3 sentry-mode Bastions. He was dead before he hit the ground.

"Fucking shit!" I screamed, grabbing Lee's collar and pulling him back from the street, behind a house.

Lee broke down crying and murmuring about how we were gonna die, I just stared at Danny, who's body had been almost ripped in half by the bullets. I didn't say it, but I believed it too: this was our last mission, we were completely boned.

Just then, as if to prove the point, 3 plasma grenades rolled around the corner. Lee and I stared at them for a moment, dumbfounded, coming to my senses I jumped behind a pile of firewood that was sitting in the yard. Peeking from my hiding spot, I saw that Lee had just then started to move away from the grenades.

"Lee fucking move!" I yelled, but I knew I was too late, I watched in horror as he was engulfed with white flames.

 **Heya, readers! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter, admittedly it probably isn't that good, as it is my first fanfiction and I'm not very good at writing in general. Make sure to leave any comments or suggestions in the reviews :)**

 **Thanks for reading**

 **-leaf**


	2. Chapter 2

_July 20th, 2078, Arkhangelsk, Russia, [Unconfirmed Location] 19:18 MST [2] days before the confirmed MIA report for RCAF pilot :_ _David_ " _Jackal"_ _Mcallister_ _was filed._

The evening sun shone through the partially destroyed roof of the Arkhangelsk city hotel, highlighting the pieces of ash and dust that rose from the fires scattered throughout the lobby. Lee watched the ash, entranced as I ran to hide him behind the reception desk, throwing down my C9 rifle, I injected him with morphine as I moved. I was pretty sure that he was going to die, of course. I mean hell, we were both more than likely going to die today, it's just _his_ left arm and leg were blown off was all.

"It's all gonna be alright bud," I whispered to him as I thrust another morphine needle into his thigh.

I dared to glance at the left side of his body; his arm and leg were almost completely gone, so much so that only stubs remained. His chest and stomach were also sickeningly mangled with deep gashes and horrible burns all over them, blood and puss oozing from them. I realized that there was almost no way I could help him, I doubt he would've lived if we had a full-blown hospital at our disposal, much less a roll of gauze and medical tape.

I pulled my standard-issue radio out of my backpack and turned it on. I was met immediately with loud static and thickly accented Russian yells that I couldn't make out. I changed my channel to Firebase Delta's frequency.

"FOB Delta," I said, ignoring Lee's cries of pain, "this is RCAF officer David Mcallister, callsign Jackal, requesting artillery fire support to grid square Tango nine! My whole squad has been wiped out and I could really use 300mm of kickass right about now!" I paused in anticipation as I waited for the radio operator to confirm my request.

"Jackal, this is FOB Delta confirming your artillery request. Party's on the way."

I sighed to myself and trudged over to Lee, dressing his wounds as best I could with the few supplies I had. Things were gonna be a lot easier without a company of Omnics on my ass. As I finished with the mass of tape and gauze that I had applied to Lee's left side I had begun making my way back to the radio to call for a medivac VTOL, when the front door was suddenly reduced to splinters in a resounding crash. A huge Eradicator Omnic was standing in the destroyed doorway, it's cannon arm pointed straight at me.

Instinct took over as I dove behind the marble reception desk beside Lee, the Omnic's laser fired and scorched the ground where I had been standing moments earlier. I swore to myself as the Eradicator lumbered towards us, how the fuck had I not heard it outside? I was soon going to pay the price for letting my guard down. My rifle, which fired depleted uranium 7.62x51 bullets, was about 7 feet away from me and right in the sight line of the enemy. I dismissed any thoughts of going after it, however, as the Eradicator's tough armour couldn't be penetrated by anything less than 20mm HMG rounds.

I quickly checked my backpack for any anti-tank devices and found a stick of C-4 and it's primer. Just as I was about to toss the bomb, I heard a distinct whistle that I had heard many times before. I looked up through the hole in the roof and saw 5 arcing trails of black smoke, accompanied by 5 300mm HE rounds. One of which was going careening right towards the courtyard of the hotel.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed as I dove behind the desk, those fucking American mortars were so unreliable when it came to precision. I braced Lee for what seemed like hours until the whistling sound grew so loud I couldn't bear it.

Just as it sounded like the shell was about to hit, I, still holding onto Lee, was blinded by a blinding blue flash and was lurched forward 3 seperate times. When the quick movements stopped, we were about 70 feet away from the hoteI. I was in shock for a moment as my brain tyres to comprehend what just happened. I got up from my crouching position to see a young , brown haired girl, with a orange jumpsuit, vintage RAF jacket and a large glowing blue crystal of some sort on her chest… she looked kinda familiar.

"Cheers love, the cavalry's 'ere," she exclaimed in a bubbly British accent.

 _Holy shit am I dead?_

"That was a close one, eh love?" She said.

She was suddenly cut off by one of the biggest explosions I'd ever heard as the artillery shell struck the spot we had been seconds before.

"DUCK AND COVER," I screamed as the shockwave hit. I tackled the girl behind a mound of stone and wood, bringing Lee with me.

Shrapnel and rocks rained down all around us in the aftermath of the explosion, but luckily our cover mostly protected us. I say mostly because when I stood up, I noticed that not only was there some sort of shrapnel in my leg, but also that the brown haired girl had a huge welt on the back of her head, probably from a falling rock. I checked her eyes for a concussion and sure enough, she had one.

"Hey Lee, you got any instant-ice packs in your kit?"

No response.

I glanced at Lee and realized that he wasn't moving, so I went over to him to check his pulse, it was faint, but there. I then realized the reason; the terribly put together gauze sealant had been torn away, and Lee was bleeding out. We were 12 kilometres away from the firebase and our we didn't have any vehicle support, so I did the only thing I could do, I covered Lee's wound with my combat vest and shirt, threw both him and the girl over my shoulders and walked into No Man's Land.

 **Kind of a short chapter, with only around 1000 words. I'm hoping to up it to the couple of thousands per chapter in the future but then again, I'm writing this with my phone at 4.25 am… Anyway, I hope you peeps enjoyed it and be sure to comment any suggestions you have!**

 **I'm planning on making this an OC/Tracer kinda deal, but it could change**

 **By the way don't expect much sex, as it will be more focused on intense fighting and the bonds of a squad in combat. (Plus I ain't good at writing lemons)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the shitty writing quality of the last 2 chapters... they were mostly exposition and I wanted to get them out of the way fast. I might go back and make them better when I have time, but for now I'm gonna focus on the main story.**

 _July 21th, 2078, Arkhangelsk, Russia, No Man's Land between British and Omnic lines, 04:36 MST [1] day before the confirmed MIA report for RCAF pilot :_ _David_ " _Jackal"_ _Mcallister_ _was filed._

When I took my first steps into no man's land, I knew it would be a veritable hell on earth, but I never imagined the meat-grinder it actually was. The Omnics had entrenched themselves in the muddy, shell-scarred land between our FOB and their own, By the time I was almost out of the hostile lines I had been lucky to not encounter any Omnics face to face, in fact, if not for the random bursts of Bastion miniguns, who picked off any soldier dumb enough to stick their head above the trench, I would have never known any Omnics were there.

I hoisted myself over the trench line, being careful to stay as low as possible, and crawled towards a chunk of cement that might have once been a home. I sat there for a minute, making mental notes of any bastion positions that I spotted, so as to take advantage of any blind spots. Eventually, I reasoned that the best (if you could even call it that) way was only in the sight line by 2 bastions. I would have to keep as low as possible to have any chance of surviving.

I began my journey crawling through the thick mud, dragging the 2 unconscious bodies behind me, towards the human trenchline. Between destroyed tanks and around barbed wire, I began to notice the dozens of mangled and burnt corpses that littered the foxholes and abandoned trenches, so many of them looked like they had just been trying to retreat, only to be cut down by pin-point accurate bullets, fired from those fucking Bastions. For the first time in years, I realized what was at stake, not just my life, but Lee's life and the girl's. For the first time in years, I was afraid.

My panicked thoughts were quickly interrupted as I received a sharp pain in my lower back, the force of the projectile propelled me forward onto the ground and knocked the wind out of my lungs. Not a second later, a huge firefight broke out between the 2 factions, causing thousands of bullets to fly mere inches above my head. The deafening sound lasted for no more than 10 seconds, at which point both sides ducked back into their trenches and reloaded, this gave me a chance to see how fast the wound was going to kill me.

 _Entry wound… no exit wound, thank God… probably a punctured liver. Got about 5 minutes before I pass out… kick it into overdrive cocksucker!_

My heart pounded and my leg and stomach ached as I continued dragging Lee and the girl behind me, inching ever closer to the friendly lines. As much as I wanted to stop and dress my wounds, I knew that in a Lee had even less time than I, after all, he had probably lost at least a couple of cups of blood, the only reason he hadn't died yet was because the intense heat from the plasma grenade had partially cauterized his wounds.

 _Come on, you sonuva bitch, only a couple hundred feet…_

My vision tunnelled and blurred as I got closer to my objective, but I forced myself to continue crawling.

"Thunder!" I yelled as I neared the human trenches, signifying that I was a friendly.

"Flash!" Came several British voices.

I hauled the unconscious bodies into the the dug-out position, being assisted by two of the Brits. Just as we got entrenched, a second round of shots peppered the trenches, killing several riflemen.

"We need to get you the hell out of here," said one of the medics, "your friend is in critical condition and Tracer has a nasty concussion. Not to mention your injuries,which will also require medical attention"

 _Tracer? That name seemed familiar…_

"We're calling in a medivac VTOL for you, it'll have to land about a kilometre behind the lines… I'll help you carry them."

I scooped up "Tracer" in my arms and the medic got Lee and we began to walk through the trenches. I kind of blacked out as we made our way to the back lines; it was like I was in a dream and all the chaos around my was just my imagination. But in my mind I knew what had happened. For the first time in hours my mind actually had the time to process what had just happened… Danny is dead… Lee is dying… we're losing this fight.

The world...is fucked

I was snapped out of my barely-conscious state by the sound of helicopter blades as the VTOL came in for a landing, it's back ramp lowering. 3 medics hurried out to help with the unconscious bodies. I walked clumsily into the VTOL as it's lifted off the ground. I collapsed into a seat, which caused pain to shoot through my torso, like it was on fire, reminding my of the 5.56 bullet in me.

I decided against telling the medics about my wounds, I had some medical experience after all. I reached into my medical kit and injected myself with a morphine needle, sighing at the instant numbness it provided.

Drawing my K-BAR from it's sheath, I winced as I began to dig out any shrapnel I could find in my wound. It wasn't long before I had gotten most of the bullet shards out of the wound. Satisfied, I sewed it shut and sprayed it with alcohol. Throughout the journey to the medical base, far behind friendly lines, I tended to my various wounds and was eventually left with only a puddle of blood at my feet and several brand-new scars.

I eventually got the sense that we weren't going to the medical tent and asked one of the medics.

"Well, I'm not technically supposed to say, but seeing as how you saved her," he gestured to the girl, "I guess you deserve to know."

I nodded, encouraging him to continue.

He explained to me that Overwatch, which I vaguely recalled as a kind of private army of superheroes and scientists, had been re-formed after being falsely accused of terrorism years before. Apparently, as soon as the world leaders realized they were losing some serious ground in Russia, they called on the people they had wrongly accused to help them. And they _did_.

As the medic continued the story, I realized where I had heard the name "Tracer" before; it had been on a mural I had seen at Kings Row when I had gone on a trip to Britain.

Finishing the conversation, I glanced over at Tracer, getting my first good look at her. Even in her current state, I had to admit, she was pretty adorable; her small figure was almost completely still, save for a couple of small movements from her hands, like she was weakly trying to grab some non-existent object. Her face had a look of unconscious bliss on it, she didn't look like she had just suffered massive head trauma, she looked peaceful, like she was sleeping.

The doctors had tended to her and Lee quickly, providing Tracer with an ice pack which they placed on her forehead. They had also quickly disinfected Lee's many gashes and were even beginning to fit him for prosthetics.

I looked at my friend in dismay and imagined how he would react when he woke up to find his left side integrated with a mass of carbon fibre and electronics. I wondered if he had even been truly conscious at any point after the grenades detonated, if he knew what he had lost.

I sighed sadly and leaned back in my seat, forcing myself to fall asleep to pass the time. Hopefully I wouldn't wake up until we reached our destination.

I was shaken awake by one of the doctors, who told me I needed to get off so they could return to the front lines. I followed the 4 other doctors who were carrying Lee and Tracer on stretchers into a large, bunker-like building that had what I now recognized as the Overwatch logo painted above the steel reinforced double-doors.

The moment we entered the building, half a dozen surgeons flocked around Lee, checking his pulse and injecting him with an IV needle. Among them was a blond caucasian woman, who seemed to be the leader, commanding the others and leading the pack towards the operating room.

"Hang on there, buddy," said a middle-aged security guard, blocking my entry with a stun baton, "authorized personnel only, I'm afraid"

"That man is my squad mate, and he is under my command," I replied, fuming, "I refuse to let him out of my sight!"

"Sorry, I can't let you in, period, besides," he said, gesturing at my wounds, "you might want to get some medical attention yourself."

"Fuck off," I muttered, defeated, pushing past him. If I wasn't allowed to see Lee, I reasoned, I might as well check up on Tracer.

 **Heya people, thanks for reading this new chapter, and sorry it took so long, as most of you are also experiencing, school is starting and (for me), soccer and rugby are are also starting, so I haven't really gotten a chance to write in the last couple of weeks.**

 **Unfortunately, until winter break, the upload schedule will probably continue to be inconsistent and far-between.**

 **Anywho, thanks for reading and get excited for next chapter, cause that's when Tracer and David have their first formal interaction! (Jeez I've only used his real name like, twice).**

 **Thanks, Leaf**


	4. Chapter 4

_July 23th, 2078, Moscow, Russia, Overwatch field hospital, Moscow, 09:17 MST [Day Of] the confirmed MIA report for RCAF pilot :_ _David_ " _Jackal"_ _Mcallister_ _was filed._

 _Tracer's POV_

I awoke to the whirring of machinery and the sustained, all-too familiar beeping of an ECG. I sat up, looking around at the white, hygienic room, until my gaze suddenly fell on the back of a man who was sitting in a white, plastic chair, his back turned towards me, his feet propped up on a metal desk in the corner of the room. At first glance, I assumed he was McCree, but once I got a better look at him I realized he looked almost nothing like my favourite gun-slinger.

For one thing, his hair wasn't light brown, like McCree's, rather, there were a few locks of a very dark brown, almost black, protruding from under a standard-issue CRAF helmet, though it was so beaten up and muddy it was hard to tell. He was also much taller than McCree, probably about 6'2, though it was hard to tell from his sitting position. He also didn't have a shirt on for some reason.

"Excuse me, but what the bloody hell are you doing in here," I questioned indignantly.

The man jumped slightly at the abrupt sound of my voice and turned to face me. Unfortunately, he moved so quickly that his booted feet knocked over a lamp that had been sitting on the desk as he turned, smashing the light bulb.

"Sunuva bitch," he muttered, "sorry, be with you in a second."

I was now able to see his front as he crouched down to clean up the broken glass and put it in the trash can. The first thing I noticed were his piercing blue eyes, which, even though they didn't contrast his dark hair, stood out on his well-defined face. Apart from his face, he looked pretty bad. Not his physique, mind you, that was, him being in the military and all, way above average. No, what worried me was the dozens of shoddily sewn wounds all over his body; more than one of them looked like bullet wounds and several of them still had small trickles of blood coming from them, staining the otherwise clean floor.

"Um, are you going to be all right there, luv? You seem to have sprung a leak," I said.

"Hmm?" He stopped picking up the glass momentarily, "oh these? No, these are no problem, trust me I've had much worse."

He continued to pick up the glass for a minute or two and then stood up and faced me.

"Ok now that that's all done," He leaned forward, smiling and extended a hand, "Hi, my name is David"

"Tracer," I said, shaking his hand, not quite ready to tell this strange man my real name.

"So, Tracer, what can you remember," he asked, gesturing to my forehead, " you got a pretty bad concussion from some debris."

I tried to recall what had happened before I had woken up here.

"I had been deployed to some Russian city… Arkhangelsk I think? Yeah, that was it," he nodded in agreement, "um...I had been split up from my fellow Overwatch agents by Omnics and that's when I saw some bloke trying to take on an Eradicator by himself… oh bloody hell, was that you?"

He nodded and I recalled seeing the dumbass trying to blow up that titan with a stick of C-4, but at that point I had valiantly blinked in to save him.

"Uh, yeah, that was me," he said, taking his helmet off and sitting at the foot of the cot, "thanks for that, by the way."

"Oh yeah, no problem, I only paid for it with possible brain damage," I sarcastically replied.

"You were only out for a couple of minutes, you should be fine," he countered.

"Whatever," I mumble, still miffed, "anyway, back to the original question, why the hell are you in my room?"

David then told me all about his bombing mission, the death of his squad mate and how, after I was knocked out, he had dragged me and his friend through no man's land, all the way to British lines, getting shot several times in the process.

"So yeah, that's why I'm here," he finished.

I processed his words for a minute, thinking about what this man had been through just to save a couple of people, one of whom he didn't even know, he truly was a hero.

"Well damn," I paused, slightly flustered by all David had been through in one short day, "I guess you're probably pretty tired, huh?

"Well, Yeah, but I wouldn't want to take up a room that a patient could use, this place is pretty crowded already."

"That's bull, luv! you've been through more than most of these people, anyway," I exclaimed, trying to stand up so I could find someone to get this guy somewhere proper to sleep, only to be overcame by a wave of nausea. I probably would have gotten a second concussion from the floor if David hadn't caught me at the last second.

"Woah, there," he said, picking me up, bridal style, and placing me gently back on the bed, "it's fine, I'll just sleep in the chair if that's ok with you."

I looked to the shitty plastic chair he was talking about, which was hardly more than a glorified lawn chair, I then looked at my own bed, a queen size, which was far more space than I needed and I decided that he deserved a comfortable sleep after all he had done for me.

"Look, you can just sleep here," I patted the bed, "soldiers always share sleeping areas after all, so I'm used to it.

"Are you sure," he asked cautiously, "I'm fine with the chair, honestly."

"No, really, it's fine, I don't mind."

He slowly made his way over to the other side of the bed and sat down on it, took a moment to remove his combat boots and then swung his legs onto the bed, awkwardly limiting the space in between us so that our backs were touching. I could feel heat emanate of him like a furnace, as if his body's natural habitat was in the snowy tundra of Russia.

 _Jeez this bed is smaller than I thought, we're basically backwards spooning._

With that thought occupying my mind, I was glad he couldn't see my face, because at this point I was beet red as my mind forced me to remember his shirtless state…

 _Fucking chill Lena._

I quietly suppressed these thoughts and eventually drifted off once again into a deep sleep, back pressed against the man I had met 20 minutes ago.

 **Hey Hey, Leaf here. Sorry for the miniature chapter… ugh it's so short. Whatever though, I wanted to get a chapter out there and I dare say some of you wanted that too. This chapter was chalk-full of important shit, from laying the foundation of the relationship to giving a physical description of David, though. I also hope you guys liked the Tracer POV, though it won't happen that often.**

 **Next chapter we'll do some actual Overwatch Shit, I'm not sure if David will be recruited at that point though.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading and sorry for excessive commas.**

 **ALSO A GOOD SONG IS MORRISEY'S "SPENT THE DAY IN BED" IT'S AMAZING**


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